Ditch Diggers

Ditch diggers make fine lovers
if you can put aside all that fussy shit you love so well.
They don't bring flowers
or some stupid-ass wine;
they bring shovels that scratch the wood of the floor and the wall
when they prop them there 
to hold you 
like flotsam after a shipwreck.

Ditch diggers don't fuck around. 
They get right down to it
and could care less about the shams or the thousand count sheets.
Grit is good, 
shut up and kiss your ditch digger, girl.
Learn to love the sweet earth smeared across the queen size.
Ditch diggers get up early,
do what needs done;
come nightfall, they sleep righteous right next to you
and don't listen to you yap about your classes or your bullshit.

Go down, girl
to the new roadway in the rain.
Meet that ditch digger's eyes.
Then go home, leave the door unlocked.
The world will never miss the poem you would have written
tonight at your tidy desk
wearing your white dress
like a bride stood up and shamed despite all her careful preparations. 

for Camera FLASH.


Kerry O'Connor said…
OH! Too brilliant, Shay. Trust you to show the sexy in hard to find places. This is the kind of poem I'd like to fold up and keep in my pocket for days I need to remember the difference between truth and bullshit.
Carrie Van Horn said…
Where is a ditch digger when you need one?? I absolutely love this Shay!! The message that smears through this is utterly true! You cannot truly enjoy the horse ride if you are worried about staining your clothes.
Brendan said…
So many crossed spades on this charming bracelet.
brudberg said…
This is excellent... to find what matters in the honesty of someone going up early and sleep a decent sleep.

The best poetry comes from grit.
Margaret said…
Not flowery, not romantic ... but love is portrayed a variety of ways - Grit is good.
Vivian Zems said…
Hi Shay, I always love the sass in your poetry. Always kick-ass, and then some. I have to go now and look for a ditch-digger to seduce..!
tonispencer said…
This reminds me so much of my best friend in TN - full of grit and sass and little finesse but a huge heart. I'd write the poems while she welded the joints. We taught each other a lot. Sounds like your ditch digger could be her brother. I really like this, especially the holding you up...great!
Old Egg said…
What a delight this poem is. It's captures the reader with its earthiness and down to earth wooing where need meets desire. Loved very word.
hyperCRYPTICal said…
Brilliant gritty write of where want is enough. And after reading - I want! Give me a down-to-earth ditch digger any time! :o]
Anna :o]
hedgewitch said…
The takeaway for me is the contrast here between reality and pretense, between meaning and affectation--and nothing is more affected than a tortured cliche of a poem, white dress virginal shooting for woman of the world jaded--how much better to just get down with the mud and the strength of what has to be done. Glorious writing, Shay, from your central metaphor to all its shadowy connections--especially like the intro phrases and the ending lines that frame a little ambiguity and a lot of truth so cleanly.
Maude Lynn said…
That last stanza is just spectacular.
Sherry Blue Sky said…
Yes, I especially love the last stanza.........sigh.
Life is getting your hands gritty. I need me a ditch digger!
Magaly Guerrero said…
Love is best when what's fantastic about it is a real as dirt. What has been written about love is sweet, what has been painted is lovely, but... what two people do every day, meaning it and wanting it and then sleeping like the dead (because they're exhausted) that's sexy and sustainable.
Fuck, babe, I've been away too long. I forgot how incredibly masterful you are with words and images. I love this, especially the straightforward use of language - as advice would be. Love love love to love you baby loved. la la mosk
mac said…
Getting dirty is where the fun is.